Oktoberfest purists threatened by group elitism, loose Dirndls

Only these bouncers aren't guarding the velvet-rope frontier of a New York nightclub. They're wearing Lederhosen and patrolling the festive tents of Oktoberfest, where the right to drink beer, dance on the table and roar out an ode to the frothy stuff has been a sacred rite for nearly two centuries.

But increasingly, it's become invitation-only to the chagrin of Munich city leaders and Oktoberfest organizers who are vowing steps to prevent the world-famous Volksfest from turning into a VIPfest.

They complain that events staged by record companies to promote musicians, or shows featuring ladies doffing their Dirndl dresses, are threatening the core of a tradition dating to 1810.

"We don't want to have the Oktoberfest become a show-biz event. We are not Las Vegas, we are not Woodstock, we are not a mega-disco," says Gabriele Weishaeupl, Oktoberfest's general manager, herself the picture of tradition in a smocked green Dirndl. "We want a traditional Bavarian Volksfest."

In a way, Oktoberfest has become a victim of its own popularity. By the time the 167th Oktoberfest ends on Tuesday, more than 6.5 million people will have passed through the blue-and-white gates marking the entrance to "Wiesn," the Bavarian word for field. And they'll have chugged down 5 million of the massive liter-sized beer mugs.

But don't expect to just walk into the popular Hippodrom or Kaefer tents. Tables are booked months in advance, many by companies in large blocks. And the non-reserved sections in the middle of the tents are already filled by afternoon. Beer hall owners then simply shut the doors to new arrivals.

While only a handful of the Wiesn's 14 tents are violating the Oktoberfest spirit, Weishaeupl says she will sit down with all the tent owners after the 18-day festival ends for a serious talk. City lawmakers have already called for the tents to set aside more unreserved tables.

The clash with tradition reached a head last year after a performer at the Hippodrom dropped her Dirndl, flashing her breasts for the crowd. Mayor Christian Ude derided the spectacle as a striptease and took issue when the Hippodrom started issuing VIP bracelets to allow unlimited access for a select few, a sort of season's pass.

Hippodrom owner Sepp Kratz abandoned the bracelets under pressure and says he regrets the flashing incident last year.